Leopard Printed Woes
by Lilian
Summary: A trip to the beach, a daiquiri and something Zoisite never expected would happen. [AZ, MiK pairings]


_** Leopard Printed Woes**_

by Lilian

lilian413 at yahoo dot com

**Summary**: A trip to the beach, a strawberry daiquiri and something Zoisite never expected to happen.

**Rating**: PG

**Author's Note:** This is all Thalia's fault. I blame her for the rabid plot bunny that wouldn't die. She gave me an image of Zoi lounging by the beach, daiquiri in hand. This happened. So girl: this fic is for you. My Muse appreciates the Zoi-in-swimsuit images you planted in our brain and wanted to reciprocate.

**Disclaimer**: SM is not mine, unless I'm a highly succesful mangaka and just haven't realized it yet.

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So. They made it to the beach in one piece. Which, considering somebody fed Jadeite candy before they took off, is a major feat. That boy is boisterous on his own: imagine him on a sugar high. 

That is why Zoisite lounges on the recliner with an extreme amount of pleasure. One could compare him to a cat, really, the one he stretches and yawns and just looks as if he couldn't give a flying rat's butt that he's getting the tan of a lifetime. Actually, he **does** care: about the tan, that is. A guy has to look his best, right? So some sunscreen and black sunglasses and he's good to go.

"Zoi? Did you take my copy of that biochemistry book I brought?"

Ami's voice comes from within the cabin, muffled by the sounds of the ocean as the waves break upon shore. A sly grin dances across Zoisite's lips as he pushes just a little bit more sand over the book he stole from Ami's backpack and calls back: "No, I didn't. Maybe you left it back home!"

He listens to Ami's huff of exasperation. "I'm pretty sure I put it in the bag", she says, coming out of the cabin with a glass of – is that a daikiri? – in her hand. "In fact, I seem to recall **somebody** was being **very** adamant that I leave it at home."

Zoi is the epitome of innocence as he looks up at Ami's slender form. He receives the second glass she offers him, fruity drink sloshing over the edge and staining his hand: "Really? Who, pray tell, would that be?"

Ami just cocks her head, eyebrow raised and the absolute knowledge of who took her book. Now it's just a question of how to get it back. She sips on her drink slowly, wincing ever so slightly as the rum burns on its way down her throat. And Zoi stares at her, mesmerized and wondering what the hell they were talking about because for the life of him he can't remember anything beyond the green bikini Ami's wearing.

Really, Minako should not be allowed to take Ami shopping. Their trips usually end with Zoisite ripping the clothes off of Ami in some passionate frenzy – _Zoi, does this mini leather skirt look good on me?_ – and happy as he may be with the end result, it's not really healthy for their bank accounts. But as Ami stands there, her eyes lost in the horizon, he sends a silent thank you to Minako because damn!

As in on cue with his thoughts, two cabins to their left the door opens and Minako stomps out, her voice carrying with the sea breeze: "You are an insensitive jerk!"

Both Ami and Zoi turn to watch, Ami's _pareo_ – Rei's latest discovery on her trip to the Caribbean last month – undulating against her legs. Minako has her hands on her hips and her black-on-white bikini top is striking against her skin. Not that Zoisite is looking, of course. Not at all.

Kunzite comes strolling out of their shared cabin at a slow pace, hands crossed over his chest and his resolve face on. "Just because I don't agree to wearing that—that **thing**, doesn't mean I'm insensitive, Minako."

Zoisite winces. Knowing Minako, he can probably guess what she's trying to pull: he has been her model more often than not, seeing as Kunzite has the uncanny ability to actually refuse to most of Minako's insane pleas. And this time he's not budging either, Zoi realizes, noticing the way Kunzite's lips are set in one firm line.

"But Kunzie", Ami chokes on her drink at Minako's pet name. Zoisite just smiles, "don't you wanna please me?"

Eyelashes battling, hands under her chin and unshed tears brimming her blue eyes, Minako is the picture of heart melting begging. Any lesser man would crumble and yield against the saccharine onslaught that is Minako's face. But Kunzite is Kunzite, and because of that he remains just where he is and just shakes his head.

Minako throws her hands into the air, defeated. "Fine! This is the last time I buy you a thong: next time, **you** pick your swimming suit!"

This time, Zoisite is the one who chokes on his drink.

After clearing his airway, he's half-covered in strawberry daiquiri and Ami's sitting next to him on the recliner, calmly rubbing his back until the last of the spasms have gone. A strange smile is dancing across her lips as Zoi points a finger to Minako's cabin: "Did she really buy him a thong?"

Ami nods. Then leans forward until Zoisite can smell the coconut in her sunscreen and whispers against his ear: "We got you two a matching His-and-His pair. Leopard spots, if you must know."

Before he can actually process what she said, Ami's moving away and into the cabin, all giggles and mirth. And, Zoi notices, carrying her biochemistry book in her hand. When did she find the time to retrieve it, anyway? And how did she see it from under the pile of sand?

"It seems you have, once again, bitten more than you can chew, Zoisite."

Jumping in surprise, he turns to find Kunzite leaning against the railing of his and Ami's cabin, something that could be called glee dancing in his eyes. Either that or he's constipated, Zoi can't really tell.

Setting the empty glass down, Zoi shrugs: "Pot, meet the kettle. Kettle, the pot says hi."

They laugh, the realization that indeed, the women they chose are a bit of a handful, when an irate scream echoes from the beach below.

"Jadeite, I swear to God, you touch me one more time and I'll skin you alive!"

A pause, as if nature itself was holding its breath: would Jadeite be foolish enough to tempt the fates?

…

There was never any doubt: another shriek and a resounding slap, and then male laughter as Jadeite finally achieves his goal: pissing Rei off.

Zoisite knows the only reason Jadeite is not burned to an inch of his sorry life is because there are too many witnesses around. Otherwise, Rei would have no problem whatsoever turning Jade into KFC's next combo. It's the nature of their relationship, after all: Jade tests Rei's limits and Rei pretends to hate him. And the sex, of course, but that is something Zoi doesn't want to think too much about.

Shivering as the idea of naked Jade parts presents itself to his brain, he brushes his hair back: "You think he'll be sleeping on the sand tonight?"

Kunzite shrugs. He does that a lot. "As long as he's not bawling his eyes out on my living room again, I don't really care. He had it coming."

They remain like that for a while, sharing that comfortable silence of old friendships and true friends. The sun is high in the sky and Zoisite can feel it hitting his naked back and wonders if its time to re-apply the lotion. And engage in the help of one Mizuno Ami, because honestly, you can't expect poor little him to reach all those hard places, right?

Entertaining thoughts of oily sex-escapades with his girlfriend, he misses Kunzite's caustic barb.

"Uh?"

If his students could see him now… rational, verbose professor Ward reduced to monosyllabic responses. But then again, his students haven't seen Ami in that bathing suit. At least he doesn't think they have. Have they? Murderous thoughts directed against the most lecherous of his pupils cause him to miss Kunzite's words again. This time, Zoi just shrugs apologetically: it's not the first time Ami-related thoughts have left him disconnected and it won't be the last.

"I said, wipe that smirk off your face. I don't think I need an image of the two of you making good use of that couch."

Zoi's grin turns even wider: "May I remind you that if was **your** girlfriend the one who took my sweet little Ami to that sex-shop on the Ikube district?"

If Zoi thought he would embarrass Kunzite with that comment, he had another thing coming. Kunzite wasn't the leader of the Shitennou just because of his pretty looks: "Oh, I seem to remember you were of a more… pleasant disposition when you came to my cabin two nights ago asking me if I had any whipped cream left. Wearing just a towel, if I might add."

Zoi blushes to the very ends of his strawberry-colored hair. He **knew** he shouldn't have done that but hey, Ami was being **very** persuasive that night and what was he supposed to do? Go to Nephrite's? Or, heaven forbid, **Jadeite's**? He would've never heard the end of it.

But now, watching Kunzite's grin turn predatory, he wonders if he made the wrong choice. Kunzite wouldn't use this particular tidbit of his sex-life as leverage, would he? He's about to ask him just that when Minako walks up the small staircase leading up to the cabin, and with a head-nod to Zoisite – and a carefully calculated omission of Kunzite's presence – disappears into the living room beyond.

Turning to the older man, Zoi raises an eyebrow. He doesn't need to ask.

"Don't worry. It'll blow over in a few hours."

"You sure? She seems pretty pissed."

Kunzite shakes his head. "Trust me, little brother, you haven't **seen** Minako mad. She's just upset I wouldn't wear—" Zoi stops him before he can finish. "We heard. Dear God in the heavens, we heard. Please don't remind me of that ever again." As he pretends to be nauseated – and he doesn't have to try very hard: Kunzite in a stripper's gear does not rock his boat, despite Jadeite's continuous protestations to the contrary – Kunzite chuckles and flicks his long white hair back.

That's when Ami and Minako come out of the cabin, and in Zoisite's eyes, dressed to kill. Or **undressed**, as the case might be. Because there is no way in hell Ami is going **anywhere** but back inside the house dressed **like that**. A squeak is all that manages to leave his lips as Ami bends down to retrieve her towel, left on a chair after her morning swim, and makes the black, enticing bikini frame her chest until it seems to go on forever.

Minako giggles like she's twelve, which, when one looks at her own bikini, is the farthest thing from both their minds. It seems their latest purchase got the result they wanted, and her eyes fire daggers at Kunzite's smiling face, seeming to say 'See? She **likes** what I buy her'.

"Ahem, Ami?" Zoi begins, approaching the two with cautious steps. He knows that look—it's sisters banding together against the common enemy: All of Those Who Are Male. And at this point, he falls into that category, "A word, please?"

Perhaps if he can draw her away from Minako's infectious influence he'll be able to talk some sense into her. But Ami turns to stare at him and effectively freezes him in place and he knows he's too late. It seems he won't be enjoying the pleasures of peeling that swimsuit off any time soon.

"I think I know what you are going to say, Zoi", she says, and her words are calm and collected and he knows better so he says nothing, "And the answer is no. You don't have a say in what a wear anymore that I do in what you wear. After all, I don't see you wearing the swim suit we bought you."

He lets them go without another peep, watching them walk down the beach and disappear into the sand. He hears Kunzite moving closer and stops him before he can start: "Not. A word. **That** was your girlfriend's fault."

"And you know what we must do to amend our mistakes, don't you?"

It's that tone. The tone of voice that Kunzite only uses in battle, or when making extremely hard decisions. And Zoi knows exactly what he's talking about.

"Do we have to?" he whines, the prospect of actually going through with it beginning to make his spine grow cold, "Can't we just buy them flowers or something?"

Kunzite's hand on his shoulder is heavy.

"Sometimes, little brother, one has to make sacrifices too great to bear. And I believe this is one of those times."

Zoi tries to battle the inevitability of it all, and suddenly knows Minako planned this all along. And Ami probably agreed with her, the little devil she is. Cornered, he grants them victory.

"Fine."

As they walk into Kunzite's cabin, the wind carries his voice towards the beach, where two **very** amused girlfriends are waiting for the fruits of their labor to sprout: "I call dibs on the leopard print!"

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The End.


End file.
